Tempted By The Hero

After she cleaned up, he reached out to grasp her wrist. “Sit.”

She sank down on the driftwood log, her cheeks hot.

“I think I should build a separate shelter.”

“Why?”

“Because of this,” he said, gesturing between them.

She didn’t want to sleep alone, no matter how excruciating the sexual tension was. “That’s a lot of extra work.”

He didn’t disagree. “It’s difficult for me to be close to you every night.”

His confession surprised her. It wasn’t like him to admit weakness.

“If I make my own space, you’ll have privacy to do whatever. So will I.”

She studied his face, embarrassed. She hadn’t thought about how he spent his time alone. “You haven’t...”

“Of course I have,” he said, raking a hand through his hair. “I’d be going crazy if I hadn’t. I’m going crazy anyway. It just doesn’t hit the spot, you know? It’s like eating vegetables when you really want dessert.”

Her mouth dropped open. He was really laying it all out there. “For me it’s the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sex with someone else is the vegetable. Without dessert.”

It took him a second to process what she was saying. “Touching yourself is the dessert? The only dessert?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you’ve been choosing the wrong vegetables.”

She laughed at this, shaking her head. “Maybe I have.”

He stared at her in that way of his. Half longing, half awe. She felt something shift inside her. It was like her heart had been balancing on this precarious edge. Now it was falling free, out of her hands and into his. He was the kind of man no woman could resist, and the intensity of his gaze just wrecked her. She felt more alive with him than she ever had before. More aware of herself, more in tune with her body.

She was capable of things she hadn’t dreamed of. He made her want to live to the fullest. He made her want to take risks.

She was tempted to toss aside her misgivings and throw herself at him, but she couldn’t do him dirty like that. It was wrong. He cared about his career and his professional ethics. She had to respect his boundaries.

“I’m sorry I spied on you,” she said. “You don’t have to build another shelter on my account.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Fine.”

After a weighted silence, he said, “I’ll sleep by the fire tonight. It’s not raining.”

“Suit yourself,” she said, getting up to leave.

He reached out to stop her. “When we get back home—”

“What if we don’t?”

His eyes met hers, contemplative. He didn’t have an answer for that. Instead of making promises he couldn’t keep, he released her. She crawled inside the shelter and curled up, alone. He took his cushion out to the fire.

She wondered how long they’d be stranded on this island. They could get rescued tomorrow, or next week. They could also die here, having never indulged their desires. The thought kept her awake for hours.

She wished for rain to bring him in, but it didn’t come.

Chapter 13

He slept off and on, plagued by vivid dreams.

In one, he was back at the waterfall with Cady. Instead of watching from a distance, she stripped naked and joined him. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lips touched his. He lifted her against the wet rock wall and took her like that, standing up, with the falls raining down on his shoulders.

Then the setting shifted, and he was on top of her in the surf. It was the same basic scenario. She was wet; he was hard. They were going at it while the waves crashed around them. But she slipped away from him somehow, leaving behind her red dress. He crushed the fabric in his fists and searched for her. She was in the raft, floating out to sea. One slender arm dangled over the side, fingertips touching the water. Sharks circled.

He jerked awake at dawn, chilled to the bone. A fine mist coated his face. He wiped the moisture away, blinking.

The fire was almost out, so he tossed some dry branches in the pit. Then he went to water a nearby palm tree. He was irritated that his sex dream had turned into a nightmare. He shook off and stretched his neck muscles, wincing.

What a day. What a night. What an unbearable situation. He was stranded with the hottest woman he’d ever met. She was so hot, she’d touched herself while watching him shower. He still couldn’t believe it, and he’d seen the evidence with his own eyes.

The sight of her on her knees behind that boulder had undone him. He’d wanted to grasp her pretty hand and lick her fingers. He’d wanted to rip off her bikini and bury his face in her. He’d been so close to giving them what they both needed. So close.

Instead he’d dug deep for control, and found the strength to leave her untouched. He told himself that her actions didn’t mean anything. She was responding to a naked male body with toned muscles or whatever, not to him as a person. It was flattering and sexy as hell, but rubbing one out wasn’t a declaration of affection.

While he sat by the fire, imagining what she might have done if he hadn’t interrupted her, she crawled out of the shelter. She was wearing her typical morning outfit, an oversize T-shirt and panties. She’d change into her bikini in an hour or two. Until then, he could see the shape of her breasts and her dark nipples poking at the fabric.

Building another shelter wouldn’t help him ignore her sleek curves. It wouldn’t stop his eyes from following her around camp. It wouldn’t kill his desire. If he needed to be alone, he could walk into the woods. He’d stroked himself to a furtive climax a couple of times since his hands had healed.

He put on his shirt, which he’d hung up to dry by the fire, and decided to scrap the idea of separate spaces for now. He had more important projects to tackle. It was time to prepare for the long haul. They couldn’t count on getting rescued. Waiting for help was a passive strategy. He wanted to take a more active role in his fate. He wanted to repair the raft.

With the raft, they’d have mobility. They could escape the kidnappers, if necessary. They could explore the shoreline, go out to meet a ship, or travel around the reef. The fishing possibilities were far greater. He could avoid sharks and rays, and cover more area. He could travel from one end of the island to the other.

The raft also offered the last and riskiest option: leaving the island. At some point, they’d have to talk about it. Months from now, though. Maybe even years. Because the chances of surviving a long journey across the ocean were slim.

Whatever they decided, he couldn’t let the raft and engine components deteriorate. He had to get it in working order as soon as possible.

She made some kind of pudding for breakfast out of bananas and coconut milk. He’d rather have eggs and bacon, but he didn’t complain. She was a wizard with the meager ingredients they had.

After they ate, he checked his bamboo raft. It was dry and ready to go. He gathered the rope and the kayak paddle. He also found a piece of palm bark she could use as a paddle. Then he stripped down to his boxer shorts and belt, with his knife secure in the sheath. His shorts were getting ragged because he used them for swimming so much. Pretty soon, he’d be wearing a damned loincloth.

Cady changed into her bikini and covered her hair before they left. She applied sunscreen, passing him the bottle. He wondered where she’d put the coconut oil. He had plans for a hot date with it later.

They walked along the tide pools and through the cave, to the beach where they’d found the storage trunk. They’d named it Treasure Cove. They were going to East Eden for the engine. Shelter Bay was their home base.

He launched the bamboo raft from the beach. She straddled the front section, and he straddled the back. Although the raft stayed afloat with both of them aboard, it didn’t maneuver easily. Because of its narrow shape, it would be better suited to the calmer waters on the leeward side of the island. He could use it for fishing along the reef.

Navigating the choppy sea was difficult, but doable. They paddled past a set of sheer cliffs, into a section of no-man’s land. The stark rock face made a striking contrast to the blue water. Although it was beautiful to look at, he felt a twinge of unease. There was no shoring area along these cliffs. If something happened to the raft, they’d have to swim.

Luckily, the raft held together fine. Cady seemed calm and focused. They had to paddle hard against the current to reach East Eden, but they made it without incident.

So far, so good.

The engine was heavier than he remembered. He tied a rope around it and dragged it across the beach the same way he’d dragged the clam shell. About halfway there, he had to stop and rest. His knee throbbed in protest when he started moving again. Cady helped him by pushing while he pulled. It took both of them to complete the task. He rolled the engine onto the raft in a final heave.

She dusted off her hands, smiling. “See? You needed me.”

He hadn’t wanted her to come along because it was mildly dangerous, but she was right. He’d needed her.

“You can just say it. The world won’t end.”

“I needed you.”

“You couldn’t have done it without me.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you. I’m so glad you’re here. You’re the queen of the island and I’m your humble servant.”

She did a fancy bow, her toes pointed.

“What kind of move is that?”

“A curtsy.”

“Were you a ballerina, too?”

“Not really. I did Acro. It’s a blend of dance and acrobatics, with some ballet. You know Cirque du Soleil?”

He had a vague idea, so he nodded.

“It’s like that. Very physical.”

No wonder she was so fit, with her tight little body and sleek curves. She could probably do all sorts of twists and contortions.

He shoved that exciting thought out of his mind and focused on tying down the engine. He wrapped the rope around several times and secured it with a double fisherman’s knot. He couldn’t risk letting this prize fall overboard. If he lost the engine in deep water, they’d be screwed.

When he launched the raft from the beach, testing its buoyancy, it started to sink. He’d anticipated that, so he handed her the paddle and climbed off to swim. What he hadn’t anticipated was the balance problem. Without his weight, the raft tipped forward. She bailed out before it flipped completely, treading water with him.

“I have to retie the engine in the back,” he said.

“Why? We can both swim.”

That was true. The raft looked stable with the engine in the middle. It would be easier to push and less likely to flip. “You don’t have to swim with me. I’ll drop off the engine and come back for you.”

“Let’s just go together. It’s not that far.”

He wasn’t worried about the distance. It was less than a mile, and she was a strong swimmer, but they had to skirt along those sheer cliffs. If she got a cramp or panicked, they’d be in trouble.

“You don’t think I can make it?”

“You can’t go back once we start.”

“I know.”

He rested the paddle on top of the raft and pushed it through the water, kicking hard. Cady swam beside him. She didn’t seem worried. She was better at swimming than paddling. They moved with the current, making steady progress.

“We’re halfway there,” he said. “You good?”

“I’m good.”

He glanced behind them, just to confirm the distance traveled. His blood ran cold as he spotted the worst possible sight.

A dorsal fin.

Less than twenty feet away.

Judging from the height of the fin, this was not a small blacktip reef shark. It was an open water species, large and deadly. Although he knew that sharks tended to strike from below, rather than skimming the surface, his throat tightened with fear. This predator was tracking them. That wasn’t necessarily a prelude to an attack—but it was really frickin’ scary.

The next instant, the fin was gone.

That was even scarier.

“Come here,” he said to Cady.

She followed his gaze, scanning the water. “What is it?”

“Just come here,” he said, his teeth clenched.

When she swam closer, he pulled her into the space between the raft and his body, protecting her as much as possible. “Get on the raft, but be careful. I don’t want you to tip it over or fall off.”

The fin resurfaced in front of the raft. The shark was circling. He prayed it wouldn’t take an exploratory bite.

She scrambled to get out of the water, eyes wide.

“Careful,” he repeated.

The fin disappeared again.

She managed to climb on the raft, with his help. He grabbed her backside and hauled her aboard. She couldn’t straddle either end of the raft without throwing off the balance, so she had to drape herself across the engine with her bottom in the air. It might have been comical if he wasn’t afraid for their lives.

The shark circled around again, its dorsal fin cutting closer. He identified the size and species with growing unease. It was a tiger shark, about ten feet long. Tiger sharks could be aggressive, and they weren’t picky eaters. He drew his knife from the sheath, treading water. She gaped at him over her shoulder.

“What are you going to do with that?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“Defend myself.”

“Cut the engine loose and get up here right now.”

He shook his head. “I can’t lose the engine.”

“Better it than you!”

The shark swept by his left leg, spooking the hell out of him. It was gone before he could make a stab in its general direction. He gripped the knife handle tight, worried about dropping it. He couldn’t lose his knife. He couldn’t lose the engine.

He couldn’t lose her.

“You get up here, or I’m coming down,” she said.

“Don’t you dare move,” he said quietly.

The shark bumped the raft.

She clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle a scream. He waited for the next pass, his knife ready. She was sobbing with terror. He couldn’t hear her, but he could tell by the way her body shook. He felt oddly disconnected from his own fear. The thought of leaving her bothered him more than the thought of dying. She couldn’t survive here without him.

He waited for the shark to attack, his heart in his throat.

After about thirty seconds, he returned the knife to its sheath. He was going to continue about his business. If the shark didn’t like it, too bad.

He resumed swimming, pushing the raft forward. His stomach twisted in anticipation of teeth tearing into his flesh, but he tried to stay calm. Cady wept silently, her shoulders trembling. He concentrated on moving through the water with brisk efficiency. Soon they were in sight of Treasure Cove.

He didn’t see any fins. Maybe the shark hadn’t followed them.

When his feet touched the sand, he felt a surge of relief. They’d made it. They were on land, in one piece. They were both completely unharmed. The engine and raft were intact. She waded through the surf and collapsed in a heap on the beach. He shored the raft with relish. Then he flipped the shark two birds.

Take that, you bastard. In your face.

Cady didn’t share his triumph. She glared at him with weepy eyes, as if she couldn’t believe he would celebrate their narrow escape.

He rested his hands on his hips. “What?”

“You said the sharks hang out by the reef.”

“The smaller ones do. That was an open water species.”

“What if it had attacked you?”

He didn’t have an answer for that.

“What if I’d panicked, or jumped in the water to help you?”

“I told you not to move,” he said in a reasonable tone.

She gave him an incredulous look.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me.”

She made a strangled sound and closed the distance between them. “Hear this,” she said, jabbing her finger at his chest. “You’re a jackass.”

He flinched at the insult, his muscles taut. He’d taken a risk by staying in the water, but it was a calculated risk. They’d needed the engine. The shark hadn’t attacked. They were fine. Why not focus on the positive?

Instead of trading barbs with her, he untied the rope. He left the engine on top of the raft and secured the rope to the bamboo. It was easier to drag across the sand this way. He hauled the engine to the mouth of the cave and left it there, next to the deflated raft. Although the raft had a repair kit, he wasn’t ready to start a big project. They hadn’t eaten lunch yet. He hadn’t explored the tide pools or checked his traps. It was his responsibility to provide for them. He was doing the best he could. She should respect that.

“Let’s go,” he said, walking through the cave.

She followed close behind him, but not by choice. She was afraid of the dark interior, especially at high tide. As soon as they reached the other side, she stormed off. He scowled at her slender back in frustration.

He found himself reacting just as passionately when they argued as when they kissed. That wasn’t normal for him. He also didn’t know how to resolve their conflicts. He couldn’t take Cady to bed, so he had to find another way to please her.

While he headed toward the tide pools to check the traps, he considered different strategies. He’d had steady girlfriends before he’d become a SEAL. He tried to remember what he’d done to make them happy. They liked gifts, flowers, nice gestures. He could give Cady a fish, but that wasn’t much of a peace offering.

What else? He’d never had any trouble communicating with women. They liked men who could carry on a conversation. They liked men who listened.

He hadn’t listened to Cady’s concerns just now. Instead of hearing her out, he’d asked if she’d heard him clearly. He hadn’t stopped to think about her feelings. He’d told her to stay put, so he’d expected her to stay put. It occurred to him that her grandfather had barked the same order just before he’d died.

Logan massaged the nape of his neck, wincing.

Yeah. Maybe he’d been a little insensitive.

Although he didn’t regret his decision to save the engine, he could’ve listened and communicated better. He also should have anticipated her reaction. He’d been in the water with an aggressive tiger shark for twenty minutes. Of course she’d been horrified.

Two weeks ago, she’d watched a group of the same species tear apart a dead body. Most people were traumatized by stuff like that.

He didn’t have much success at the tide pools. He returned to camp with one of those orange fish that looked like Nemo. It wasn’t his finest moment. Her eyes were swollen from crying. She accepted the fish and cooked it in silence.

He cleaned up for dinner by washing his hands and face, and putting on his clothes. They had fried Nemo with mashed taro and seaweed. She could turn almost anything into a delicious meal, but not this. The fish was flabby and tasted strange.

He wouldn’t be catching any more Nemos.

“I’m sorry I called you a jackass,” she said, staring at the fire.

“I deserved it.”

She seemed surprised by this admission. “I thought you were going to die out there.”

“I know.”

“How could you do that to me?”

He raked a hand through his hair, which was gritty with sand. “I didn’t think the shark would attack.”

“And sea kraits rarely bite?”

It was difficult to compare a shy, nearly harmless sea krait to an aggressive tiger shark. The second animal was far more dangerous. He’d made a risky decision, and he had to own it. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

She rose from the driftwood bench, pacing in front of him. “I can’t stand watching you be so careless with your own life. Or mine.”

Two weeks ago she’d seemed a bit cavalier about death herself. She’d told him that she’d rather die than leave the island in the raft. It still bothered him, remembering that. “I didn’t mean to put you in harm’s way.”

“Just yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you get scared?”

“I do get scared, but I set the fear aside. I move past it.”

She stopped pacing and crossed her arms over her chest. “You move past it.”

He nodded.

She sat down again, facing the fire. “You know how I said my dad got shot in the line of duty? It took him a couple of months to recover from the injury. Then he went back to work on the same beat. He risked his life every day. I was afraid he’d die, like my grandpa. He moved past the fear, I guess. But I never did.”

“That’s why you play it safe?”

“That’s why I play it safe. I’m not an adrenaline junkie, like you. And I don’t enjoy worrying about people I love.”

His heart did a flip inside his chest, even though she was talking about her dad, not him. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you won’t scare me again.”

He rubbed a hand over his mouth, reluctant to make promises he couldn’t keep. “I’ll try not to.”

“You don’t give an inch, do you?”

He’d like to give her every inch he had. Clearing his throat, he changed the subject. “I should teach you how to build a fire.”

“No,” she said, jumping to her feet.

“I want you to learn.”

“Why don’t you just keep yourself alive?”

“I could get sick. There could be a storm.”

It smelled like rain right now, actually. Although it wasn’t monsoon season, they’d grown accustomed to light showers in the afternoons and evenings. Heavier rains could strike. She started rinsing out the coconut shell cups and scrubbing her turtle shell, ending the conversation. They’d had more than enough conflict for one day, so he stayed quiet.

Clouds gathered low in the night sky, shrouding the beach in mist. He wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight. He covered the fire as well as possible and climbed inside the shelter. They lay side by side, silent. A light drizzle began, pelting the roof. The drizzle turned into rain, and the rain became a downpour.

The storm had arrived.

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